Roughly
by Endlessly She Said
Summary: Teddy had the habit of handling Victoire always a bit too roughly. This is a tale that tells of their developing relationship as it overcomes the awkwardness of love that came from having grown up together.


**WARNINGS:** Mild swearing.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Wow. This started out as nothing. I was daydreaming (nightdreaming?) about Victoire and Teddy while I was trying to fall asleep. There's more to this in my mind, but it slowly starts becoming more PG-13 as it goes on. Ahem. Frisky kids. I would have continued, but the ending seemed perfect for what this was, so I stopped. : Don't worry, I'm not too distracted from my main projects!

At the age of four (I was three), he was anything but charming. In fact, Teddy Remus Lupin was rather obnoxious. Only to me, though, of course. Perhaps it was simply because most of the other children hadn't been birthed yet, but I am of the full belief that it wouldn't have mattered to Teddy either way. He would have _still_ only targeted me.

One of the first memories that I have of Teddy involves pain, both physical and emotional. It was just before lunch, and Teddy always got a little wild before then. I think his senses were tied directly to his stomach; the more it was filled, the nicer he was. This might be how it is with _all_ men, but it was doubly true for Teddy. On with the story, though. He had somehow convinced me that if I wished hard enough, I could fly. Like the good Samaritan he was, he even helped lift me onto the chair, and from the chair onto the table. Now for most, a table is not so high. Adults often use tables and chairs and counters to do domestic chores, like change the lighting. For a three-year old, it seems to reach the clouds. I had to step to the ledge in order to see the floor beneath, but I was not afraid because _Teddy said I could fly_, and I believed him.

How foolish.

My small, fat toes curled over the wooden edge. "You haff to fink about fwying, Victoire." (At the time, he hadn't learned how to pronounce my name correctly, calling me Vik-tahr instead of Vik-twar. I would often try to correct him, but my speech was more jumbled than his.) At his guidance, I tightly closed my eyes and envisioned the dining room through the darkness of my lids. I saw the wooden floor miles beneath me; the worn counters began to push further back, the kitchen expanding. I imagined my arms lifting and felt the thought turn to action. My chunky legs bent at the knees. I was going to _fly_.

For a moment, I did. The air was like wind as my little body broke through the dining room's atmosphere. I squealed in delight, and then I screamed in pain. The first person to rush to my aide was my mother. "What 'az 'appeened?" The familiarity of her voice turned my screams into blubbery sobs. "Oh _non_! Victoire!" What _had happened_ was that I had landed on my right arm, breaking it. When my mother tried to lift me, I howled again, and she called for my father.

Weasleys and Potters and Delacours poured into the room at such a quick rate that when my father was actually aware of Mother's calling, he had to squeeze through. This was not an easy task for a man of his burly size and a family gathering that large. Upon sight, Father picked me up gently in his great, big arms and whisked me away to the sofa, where somebody (I was never informed whom.) mended my arm.

During this entire scene, Teddy was nowhere to be found. Once I'd hit the floor, he had found a cozy little hiding spot and remained there until the crowd cleared. Then he ventured off elsewhere so that he wouldn't have to face the blame that he was so deserving of.

This sort of trickery continued on through the years, and I fell subject to it each time. Initially, I tried to convince my family of the truth: that it was Teddy who was encouraging me to do these things. Sometimes they would believe me; other times, they wouldn't. It simply made no difference to Teddy the Instigator, though. They would punish him and he would _still_ find ways to harass me.

One of his favorite methods of taunting was to use his Metamorphmagus skills in my proximity. In my later years, this was nothing more than an irritant and I longed for the freedom of Hogwarts to practice charms. By no means would charms match Teddy's innate gift of physical change, but it would be something to mildly compare. But when I was younger, I could not understand why Teddy could sometimes alter the color of his hair or his nose or his eyes. So one night, I asked him. "Oh, _all_ magical folk can do it, Victoire," he had said. (He'd almost gotten the hang of my name. Instead of Vik-tahr, he called me Vik-tohr. It was progress, but I only saw it as an insult. "_That's a BOY'S name._") He encouraged me to concentrate on a color – purple – and said that if I was a true witch, I could make my hair the very color.

As usual, the encounter only ended in tears for me. I had tried very hard to will the color purple into my hair, imagining it seeping from my skull and clinging to each strange as it slithered to the tips. Alas, the nearest mirror showed only the strawberry blond color that my hair had always been.

This led to what was possibly Teddy's first act of kindness toward me. It did not _seem_ like kindness at the time, but looking back on it, I realize now that he had just been trying to fix what he created. "Close your eyes, Victoire. It only works if you close your eyes. Don't open them until I tell you." There was a franticness to his tone; I obeyed.

Everybody that I knew in my family were witches and wizards. I wanted to be _just like them_. I wanted to go to Hogwarts or Beauxbatons. I wanted to learn how to use a wand. I wanted what all my family _was_. If I wasn't a witch, then there was so much that I would never have; never do. Even worse was that I would disappoint my family. I wasn't quite old enough to put that into words, but I knew the feeling of disappointment.

My eyelids soon became sore, almost cramped. "Teddy," I whimpered, curling my body into itself. The image of my hair changing began to fade as I worried, but I forced it back vividly into my mind. "I'm a witch. I'm a witch. I'm a witch." I repeated this softly (sometimes with tears) until I was told to open my eyes. What I saw amazed me at first – My hair was purple! -- but when the color started to drip off in a liquid mess, I realized that it was merely paint. I cried harder than when I'd broken my arm. "I'm NOT a witch. I'M NOT A WITCH!"

Teddy was severely punished for his actions. He was sent to his bedroom without any supper. (Well, it was really the guest bedroom, but Teddy could almost always be found in this very house. So it really was almost like his room. ) However, Grandmother Weasley declared that the treatment was cruel and negligent and demanded that Uncle Harry send up a tray of food to the boy.

The worst came during the holidays. It was the first time that Teddy had returned home since he'd started Hogwarts. I was just one year away from joining him, and even that seemed too far off. I had to stay home with Andromeda while Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry, Grandmother Weasley and Grandfather Weasley, and even Uncle Ron went to go pick Teddy up from the station.

I wouldn't admit it, but when Teddy stepped through the door, I was happier than I'd been since he'd left. I hadn't been sad, but I had missed him terribly. Of course it wouldn't do to let Teddy see that for himself, so I kept my face in a tight mask of annoyance for as long as I could. I say _as long as I could,_ for Teddy brought me to tears once more. "Oh, _Victoire_," he started (He could say my name correctly now.), his voice an auditory grimace. "Victoire, it's absolutely _horrible_ at Hogwarts. They make us go to classes _ten hours _a _day_ with **no** breaks in between. Boys and girls are forced into these tiny little rooms where there are dozens of beds, all lined up in a row like in an orphanage. The food is _always_ cold and there is _never_ any dessert served. They say it builds character, but I think they're simply hoarding it all for themselves." He continued on, webbing stories of horror, until I finally cried out that I _never_ wanted to go to such a horrible place; I _never_ wanted to go to Hogwarts.

It took roughly two hours for everybody to calm me, and even then I still didn't believe what they were telling me. Hogwarts may have been a beautiful place during their era, but it had obviously turned into some sort of institution of torture. The evidence did not sway the family, however, and they would be blindly sending me off the next year.

How dreadful.

My fears remained as I was sent on my way. I was an absolute wreck on the train ride. I tried very much not to cry, and mostly succeeded. There were times when I slipped into a sob that jolted my body, but it never lasted for more than a minute. Teddy would occasionally stop by the compartment that I had holed myself in. (Two other girls were on the opposite bench and completely ignored me. I'm not sure if it was out of courtesy or if it was because they couldn't be bothered.) He never stayed for long, saying that he just had to make sure that I hadn't been eaten by any older years. Sometimes when he did this, I remembered why I had hated him. But then he stopped by when I was crying. I expected him to laugh and make some crude remark about me being a crybaby, but the look on his face was of pure concern as he slid next to me on the bench. "Have they done anything to you, Victoire?" He motioned at the two older girls who gave neither of us the time of day. I shook my head without saying a word because I couldn't stop crying. I could feel how puffy my eyes were and I had to keep sniffling to prevent any streams of snot from escaping my nostrils. "Then what is it?"

I was reluctant to tell him. After all, he always seemed to make situations worse whenever he opened his mouth. Before I could commit to silence, the words were wrenched from the gut of my stomach. "I don't want to go to Hogwarts, Teddy. I don't _want_ to do schoolwork for ten hours straight. I don't _want_ to eat cold meals. I _hate_ hiking and the woods _frighten_ me." And further to my surprise, Teddy grabbed me gruffly (He never did understand the concept of tenderness.) and pressed me against his chest, _shushing_ me. "None of that's true," he said. I sensed how awkward this all was to him. Was he holding me right? Where did he put his hands? Could I breathe? "I made it all up, Victoire. You're rather easy to tease.

"The place is wicked. Really, it is. There are all _sorts_ of desserts. Pasties and truffles and cakes. Every year, there are balls. You'd like that, Victoire. The girls have to get all dressed up and the boys can take them and they dance. And there's this place called _Hogsmeade_. It's a wizarding village that has loads of shops that sell clothes, sweets, tea. There's even a _pub_ there. You have to be older to visit it – third year, I think. Which means I can go next year. But it's lots of fun, Victoire. There really isn't anything to worry about."

I paused, taking in all of this information. It was fun. There were desserts. I pulled back and glared at Teddy, balling my hand into a fist so that I could punch him in the shoulder. I didn't care that he hissed in pain from the shot; I was angry. "You _lied_ to me. I can't believe you LIED to me!"

He rubbed the spot where I'd punched him. "Why not? I do it all the time." Teddy returned the glare and winced, pulling back from me to distance us even further. "Bloody hell, Victoire. Where'd you learn to punch like that?"

"Don't swear. It's not polite." Though I spoke most ungratefully, I was rather thankful that Teddy told me the truth. I was now no more afraid of going than seemingly anybody else. Naturally, I feared fitting in and how difficult the schoolwork might be, but those were worries that could be managed. It was actually sort of a thrill now, being able to start out on my own.

It wasn't until my second year – the year after my arrival – that I began to experience any _real_ troubles. I had just finished with Charms and was heading back to the common room (I had been sorted into Ravenclaw the year prior.) when I was stopped by a small group of some very angry looking girls. They glared directly at me and I knew without them having said anything that they hated me, which was odd. I had never done anything to them. They were all in my year – one Slytherin and two Gryffindors. In fact, we had never really talked. Still, their eyes declared their loathing quite plainly.

I still wasn't quite used to this place. Anyway, I had to meet a few friends so that we could go over the day's assignment. I did this regularly, hoping to keep up on my studies. I was prideful of being a Ravenclaw, and I wanted to be the best damn one that there was. As I walked calmly away from them, having made eye contact only briefly, something one of them said caught my attention. "I don't get it. She's not even all that _pretty_." I paused and turned my head a couple of centimeters, studying them from the corners of my eyes. I barely knew them, but the sting that their words had created was far more painful than anything I had every experienced.

The three girls stopped talking once they sensed my inclusion. I felt the heat of their glare, though I didn't dare to look at them directly. "Good, you're still here." I turned and found Teddy next to me, grinning mischievously as usual. The smile wore off. "Victoire, why are you crying?"

"I'm not." I knew instantly that I was caught in a lie – my voice had cracked.

"What happened?" Teddy still teased me a lot, but I had noticed that he didn't do it quite as much or as brutally as in the past. I suppose he was growing up after all. When I didn't answer, he furrowed his brows. "Vic, _why are you crying_?"

I sniffled and shuffled my feet, pretending to be strong. "I don't know why you've suddenly started caring, Teddy." I looked up at him, shifted my eyes toward the girls as I thought of the wound they'd created, and then looked back down as if I'd caught sight of something that I wasn't meant to have witnessed.

Unfortunately, this was a great clue for Teddy. He looked in the direction that my eyes had pointed to and saw the pack of three girls, all looking at us from across the corridor. They were obviously assessing the situation, and he noticed this. Teddy pulled back from me, only to venture closer to the girls so that he stood somewhere between us. "Is there a problem?"

They were caught. Their eyes shifted guiltily, and one of them began to formulate a retreat. There were two options here: one was to back off and wait for another time while the other was to stand their ground. After some time, the second option was chosen. "Doesn't it bother you?" questioned the closest girl. I imagine she was the leader of the pack. Her voice quivered, but she was definitely the instigator.

"I don't follow." Teddy wasn't dumb. I didn't understand either.

"Well, I mean that she's using her Veela tricks on you." Though the words were hurtful, she spoke them as if they were true and clear. They weren't being used as a weapon against me. It was a simple question of apparent fact. She had to elaborate further, though, because when I looked at Teddy, he was simply staring at the girl with a look of dumbfounded confusion, though I suppose to say so is redundant. "She's not _really_ that pretty, you know. It's all an illusion. She's just pretending so that you'll like her."

"I see." His face hardened. "I'll have you know that Victoire is a beautiful girl all on her own. It's not the Veela blood that's done that. Your own ugliness, however, couldn't be helped at all, even if you were _pure_ Veela. Come on, Victoire." He roughly grabbed my wrist (for he still hadn't learned how to be gentle) and pulled me along, not stopping until we were half-way across the school.

When he did stop, he still hadn't let go of his hold on me, so I had to rip my arm from him. I rubbed it so as to sooth the mild injury, looking at the ground as I did so. "Thank you, Teddy." My voice was soft and meek. I don't recall ever thanking him before this moment.

"Don't thank me." In contrast, his own voice was gruff and accusing. He looked at me so severely that I could feel his gaze, too, and felt forced to meet the contact. "Grow a spine, Victoire. People can be cruel. This won't be the only time that something like this happens. It's human nature to find flaws in other people; there's no pleasing the entire world. Next time, somebody might be jealous of your academics or your friends or... Or something else. I can't always be there for you, and you can't always keep crying." There were no kind words to soften the cruel truth of the ones he'd just spoken. Perhaps it was all for the best that he simply turned his back to me and walked away, leaving me underneath a staircase. What he did and what he said made me realize that I could not always expect somebody to save me. There were hurtful people out there. That wasn't cynicism; that was the truth. I had to learn how to take care of myself.

So I did. It wasn't easy at first. In fact, there were times when I had to veer off to a nearby nook and let out a few tears before I could venture back out into the crowd. It wasn't as if the entire female population of the school was against me, but children will be children. Adolescence – especially as you're hitting puberty – is a very difficult time, I find, and there are those out there who feel that hurting others is easier than trying to find their place through kindness and face rejection. Girls would occasionally whisper, and boys would occasionally toss things into my hair, but I always thought about Teddy's words.

In fact, the older I got, the more I just simply thought about _Teddy_.

"He's quite a riot, you know," I started one afternoon in the common room. I was gathered with a group of my friends. We were taking a small break from our homework, sipping on hot chocolate and nibbling on sweets. "He got detention yesterday. From what I heard, he wouldn't stop changing in Herbology, and Professor Longbottom finally caught him with an elephant's trunk. He wrote him up for class disruption." My smile was wide at the thought, and it hurt my cheeks because it seemed that my lips wanted to spread further. I was sure that they already reached my eyes.

Teagan rolled her eyes, which I caught after looking up from my cup of hot chocolate. I gave her quite the confused look, which prompted an explanation. "If we let you, Victoire, you could talk about him for _hours_." I opened my mouth in preparation of a defense, but she prevented it. "Don't say that it's because you two have known each other all your lives. We've already heard that one. Admit it, Victoire, you fancy him."

"I admit to no such thing." The denial came too quickly, I knew, but I hadn't even figured the truth out for myself. It seemed such a strange thing, to have feelings for Teddy that weren't irritation and amusement. I curled up on the sofa, taking another sip of my drink before saying anything further. "My mother has naked photos of him. It would be awkward."

"It would be perfect." I glared at her. I wasn't ready for this. She shrugged. "I'm just saying..." But the subject was quickly dropped. I was too sore and contemplative to talk about Teddy anymore and the rest of the group felt the heaviness of my disposition. The only thing left was to get back to studying.

For a week-and-a-half, I completely avoided Teddy. We had memorized each other's schedules, but it was more difficult than I had imagined because Teddy was usually the one to meet me near _my_ class. He always arrived within a few minutes at the most. This gave me time to escape for the majority of my classes, but there were those where it was more difficult because of where I was seated and the amount of students enrolled in the course. I probably would have managed to evade him for a longer period of time, but he caught me one afternoon after Ancient Runes. "Not this time," I heard him say over the loud ruckus of my fellow classmates. I was pulled to the side. "You owe me an explanation."

"For what?" I wasn't very good at feigning ignorance, and he didn't even have to say anything to get an explanation from me. "Evan Happer asked me out recently." That was a lie. He had admitted that he had fancied me, but that was more than a month back.

Something about Teddy changed, but I wasn't quite sure what. "Oh. What did you say to him?" I realized that he was trying to be nonchalant, but he was far more interested than he should have been, and hee was completely aware of the fact.

I fiddled with my robes. "I told him that I would think about it." Once again, this was pure fabrication. My answer had been a flat _no_. I didn't understand why, though. Evan was above average in his attractiveness and he was prepping himself for the Quidditch team. It was true that he didn't place too much importance on academics, but that couldn't be held against him. Evan was an average student; he wasn't _stupid_ or anything. All in all, I should have really liked him. As it were, I only _kind_ of liked him.

"So what do you think you'll say?" He apparently didn't approve of my answer. There was something almost predatory in the way he looked at me. Perhaps I was his prey; maybe it was Evan Happer. Whomever it was, Teddy appeared to be practicing self-control.

I swallowed. Lying was dangerous. It was like a spider's web that stuck to you once you touched it. Still, I was much too afraid to consider the possibility of Teddy and even more frightened to tell him the truth as to why I was avoiding him. "I think I'll say yes," I finally choked. "I mean, he's handsome, talented, smart." There wasn't much left to say, and Teddy's glare informed me of how much of a good thing that was.

"Whatever. I'll see you later."

I did see him later, and much sooner than I'd expected. It was common of Teddy to hide away and brood when his feelings had been hurt (though I couldn't imagine how I'd offended him), but no sooner than the next day I saw him in the halls with a girl I didn't recognize. He had his arm draped over her shoulders, and they were looking entirely _too_ affectionate. Heat rose to my cheeks and burned as I witnessed them exchange a brief snog. I believe that I would have spontaneously combusted if such a thing were possible.

So I did what any teenage girl who was confused about love would irrationally do: I found Evan Happer and declared that I would accept his offer to court me. He must have been stunned by my outburst (I _did_ yell at him, after all.), but the shock wore off and he soon smiled charmingly at me. He even offered to carry the bag which held all of my school supplies and take me to class. I should have been thinking how wonderful a catch I'd managed, but all I could dwell on was how much I _despised_ Teddy Lupin.

Not that I didn't get used to Evan. He was, after all, handsome. He was _definitely_ passionate, and I found that I actually enjoyed listening to him as he raved about his life's ambitions. It wasn't the usual stupor of Quidditch this and Quidditch that. Oh, he did bring that up often, but there were other things that he was interested in. For one, he wanted to travel the world. The first place he planned on going was to Italy, strictly for the pasta. As he traveled, he was going to capture the diversity of each location and experience with photos. (He liked documenting memories.) He wanted to ride dragons and discover ruins and do everything that a fourteen-year old boy might dream of. There was certainly a lot to Evan that was bound to capture a girl's interest. And when he kissed me for the first time... Well, it made me think that perhaps I was in love with him, and maybe when we were alone, I was. Evan was the kind of boy who didn't admit it and probably couldn't stand the thought of it _now_, but would grow up, sweep some unsuspecting woman off her feet, raise a family, and love them with every bit of his heart. It was so easy to get lost in the promise of romanticism with him.

Until Teddy would pop up. Then I was nothing more than the green-eyed monster. If I had been a Veela in every sense of the word, his presence (or the mere mention of his name) would have washed all of the beauty from me. I would have seemed nothing more than an angry hag during those times. As it were, only my thoughts were ugly. Whenever he was around, Evan was only a tool for me to use. It all worked for a while, but Evan wasn't daft, and one day he approached me about my behavior. "I really like you, Victoire," he started without hesitation, "and I think that you like me too. But I _know_ that you like him more. You know who I mean when I say him. _Teddy_. You're really great to be around when he's not anywhere near, but the minute he's in sight, it's like you don't even see me."

"But all I see _is_ you." I sounded pathetic, but I didn't care because that was truly what I was.

Evan shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. This was hard for him, but it had to be done. "No, you don't. You see something else. I don't know what it is. Maybe it's something to take your mind off of him or maybe it's something to make him jealous. Whatever it is, it isn't _me_, and that's not what a relationship is supposed to be about. I'm sorry." Then he walked away, leaving me in a nook under the stairs. That's where I learned most of my lessons.

I sulked for the next few days. Evan was out of my life and Teddy and his presumably girlfriend were nowhere in sight. "Probably off _snogging_ somewhere," I would say during particularly hard days.

And then Teddy appeared out of nowhere. I was sitting in one of the courts, slouching stiffly on a bench. Friends had come and gone, trying to make conversation with me, but they rightfully became frustrated when all I did was mope. So I had been left to myself until Teddy showed up. "You shouldn't hunch over like that." His voice was cheerful and normal, annoyingly so. I didn't like it. "_Oi_. If looks could kill," he joked when I glared at him. It was as if nothing had ever happened.

I didn't like that either. "Where's your _growth_?" He stared at me in confusion. That must have been Teddy's favorite expression. "Your girlfriend. She's usually attached to your hip." Blast the obvious jealousy in my voice.

"Oh, you mean Samantha. We broke up last week." I think he delighted in the interest that I expressed, for he continued on. "It just wasn't working out. She was already talking about _marriage_. Can you believe it?" When I spared a glance at him, I saw the sparkle in his eyes and the crooked smile. They instantly melted the bitterness and anger that I'd felt for the past month because I realized something:

He was _my_ Teddy.

I sighed and curled up against him, wrapping both of my arms around his body. "It's cold," I lied, burrowing my head into the crook of his neck. Though he should have minded, he didn't. Instead, he brought me against him closer and encased me in his arms, always a bit too roughly.


End file.
